


Curiosity killed the Snake

by Brego_Mellon_Nin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-07
Updated: 2012-07-07
Packaged: 2017-11-09 08:46:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/453593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brego_Mellon_Nin/pseuds/Brego_Mellon_Nin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snape is sure that Potter and Lupin is up to something, so he decides to follow them and expose their secret. He gets more than he bargained for!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Curiosity killed the Snake

**Author's Note:**

> So I got the idea for this little bugger while at work, and it kept on nagging me until I started writing. I dunno why, but I felt the need to write a Remus/Harry but I wanted it to have a different twist to it, so I wrote it through Snape’s POV.
> 
> It’s set in sixth year and Remus is back as a teacher. I know it’s not compliant with J.K. Rowling’s storyline, but bear with me.
> 
> This fic contains teacher x student relations and if you have a problem with that I suggest you move past this one.
> 
> Oh, and warnings for sarcasm and slight silliness.
> 
> Disclaimer:  
> I own nothing. All the characters and places belong to J.K. Rowling. I only mess them around :P
> 
> Many thanks to my pre readers SimplyMatt and Phoebe Powers, and hugs and bows to my beta Mrs. Agget. You guys are awesome!

**Curiosity killed the snake**  
  
They are up to something, that Potter brat and the werewolf. I can tell. Severus Snape is not easily fooled, no!  
  
It’s not that they are being obvious, I’m simply very observant. It’s my duty, after all, to make sure my students are safe. It has nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that I hope to catch them doing something that would result in expulsion for the boy and a big, giant pink slip for the mutt. Not at all!  
  
For some reason I cannot fathom, the barmy old coot who dares to call himself Headmaster felt it necessary to hire that wolf for Defence Against the Dark Arts , even though it’s only a little over two years since he resigned for almost using three students as chew toys.  
  
Naturally, I put up a brave, albeit slightly hysterical, fight to keep it from happening. Alas, no amount of hissy fits could change the mind of Albus Dumbledore. Even when I threw a tantrum worthy of a house elf threatened with clothes, the old fool merely stood there silently, eyes twinkling.  
  
So, I resigned myself to keeping a very close eye on the beast and his dimwitted sidekick. Well, for all I know, the beast would end up at the sidekick. He always was a follower, that Lupin.  
  
It was shortly before Christmas that I discovered an inconsistency in the wolf’s habits. He started disappearing for sometimes a short while, other times several hours, and no amount of careful sneaking helped me disclose his secret.  
  
By coincidence, _not_ prying, I overheard Weasley and Granger discussing the frequent disappearance of their Potter pal. Didn’t take a genius to figure out what must be happening. I briefly considered going straight to the Headmaster, but without substantial proof, I could easily imagine how that conversation would proceed. I’d get that _‘Poor-Severus-really-has-too-much-to-deal-with’_ look , and if I’d insist , he’d spout some nonsense about the boy needing friends , and a subtle threat disguised as friendly advice. Nobody but Albus Dumbledore could get away with berating me. No one else would dare!  
  
In the end, I vowed to expose whatever trouble Potter and Lupin were up to.  
  
.oOo.  
  
I’ve been stalking them for a while, but so far I haven’t been able to catch them doing anything wrong. With me being a double agent and spy, it’s quite frustrating to fail in this endeavor. Feeling like that makes me want to rip my hair out. But if I actually had , I’d be bald by now , seeing as I’ve been sneaking around after them for almost half a year at this point. Also, I wouldn’t fancy finding out what the moronic students would call me instead of Greasy Git if I were to lose all my hair.  
  
Luckily, I overheard Weasley and Granger talking in the library late last night. They were complaining that Potter had once again managed to get away and hadn’t returned. I spent all night searching all over the castle and it was near dawn when it suddenly hit me. It’s full moon! Which means the mutt is in The Shrieking Shack , shredding old furniture.  
  
That means that if Potter joined him, he’s spent the whole night babysitting a werewolf! Oh, the brat is so out of here! And the mutt will be kicked out with the big boot for putting a student in danger. Drinking the wolfsbane potion enables him to keep his human mind during the change, but he’s still a bloody werewolf.  
  
I feel a wicked grin spread across my face and a gleeful cackle escapes. As I make my way towards the doors, I’m concocting a plan. When I find them, it will be necessary to watch them for a while, to make sure I have enough evidence to persuade Albus that I’m not complaining because I hate the werewolf, though I do, and want revenge by getting him fired. Truthfully, it isn’t the _whole_ reason. Or, well... who am I kidding!? I want the mutt out!  
  
Anyway, a good pensieve memory containing some clearly compromising behavior should make sure that my ranting will be justified.  
  
.oOo.  
  
When the cold morning air hits me, I draw my robes closer and quickly cast a disillusionment charm to make sure I’m not spotted, before marching down the stairs to the lawn. Once there, I head towards the Whomping Willow.  
  
Closing in on the flailing tree, I suddenly hesitate. Maybe I should wait here for them to emerge instead of barging down the tunnel. There’s a risk of running straight into them and, disillusionment charm or not, they _will_ notice me if they run right into me. As I recall, the passage way is not very wide and it would probably pose a problem. With that thought, I decide to wait them out.  
  
A warming charm later, I start to mull things over. Despite my incessant stalking, I have not yet managed to figure out what they have been doing all this time. Knowing Potter, it probably involves sneaking out to break rules or maybe even going to Hogsmeade to drink butterbeer or emptying Honeydukes. The werewolf could also be teaching the brat some defence spells too grim for the rest of the little dunderheads. Knowing Albus, he’d most likely condone that course of action, if the whole thing isn’t his idea to begin with.  
  
There’s nothing to do besides waiting to see what they are, in fact, up to. No doubt they will put a few toes out of line, if not several big feet!  
  
After waiting well past the time it takes to get cold feet - the freezing kind, not the regret kind - there’s a rustling sound apart from the branches of the Whomping Willow. I watch in rapt attention as a big furry shape pushes out from the opening between the roots. A huge paw presses a root and the tree freezes mid-whomp. Finally!  
  
It’s even better than I thought! The mutt is emerging before he’s even changed back to human form. Of course, no one is up but me, though that’s not likely to excuse this atrocious behavior.  
  
Checking my disillusionment charm is still in place and strong as ever, I position myself as I’m able to watch the whole lawn.  
  
The beast is struggling to extract himself fully from the passageway and his muscles are rippling underneath the thick fur. Finally, he pops free and the big wolf stretches and rolls his shoulders like he is working out kinks from being crouched in the narrow passage.  
  
Turning back towards the entrance to The Shrieking Shack once more, I expect to see the god awful mop of unruly black hair. Instead, a thatch of grey fur reveals itself and expands until another canine head is forcing its way up from the underground passage. I have to actually clamp a hand over my mouth to keep from screaming.  
  
What the fuck? Has Lupin turned the brat into a werewolf too? Or, did I misunderstand and the smaller wolf, now emerging fully, is not actually Potter? Either way, Lupin is in serious trouble. No matter if he bit a student or brought another werewolf onto the grounds, he is so fired!  
  
A perusal of the newcomer is in order, I think.  
  
It’s smaller than Lupin and the fur is a touch darker. The muscle tone is defined but the animal is still lean and a little gangly looking. So a young one, then.  
  
As if it senses me standing here, it turns its head towards me and lifts its snout to sniff at the air. I have stopped breathing and silently curse myself. They are wolves and, as such, have a brilliant sense of smell. A quick spell makes sure that my body leaves no evidence of my presence in the air and I move my attention back to the wolf still staring in my direction. It blinks slowly and, for the first time, I see the eyes clearly. They are a startling emerald green. Potter!  
  
My heart somehow manages to falter and pick up double tempo all at once. It’s beating madly in my chest and I can actually feel my pulse in my temples. For a confusing moment, I almost feel sorry for the brat. He is quite young to be dealing with the curse of the werewolf. But then I shake myself. That’s what he gets for hanging out in the wrong company. While pondering the boy’s fate I cannot shake the feeling that there’s something off about the smaller wolf.  
  
I watch as Potter’s wolf form makes its way over to Lupin, who has been trotting along the treeline to a more secluded spot. A spot that is not visible for anyone inside the castle, I notice. When Potter reaches Lupin, the smaller wolf bumps into his companion and jumps back, after which he lowers his front into a play bow while wagging his tail madly.  
  
 _That’s it!_ Werewolves don’t _have_ tails!  
  
My gaze shifts between the two. Lupin is bigger, with a thicker fur, and his eyes are dark brown. Where there should be a tail on a regular wolf there is nothing, though. The line of his back stops and drops into powerful hind legs.  
  
Potter, however, has a bushy , shaggy tail, still wagging like a maniac by the way, which means that he cannot be a werewolf!  
  
That realization prompts a billion new questions. How did Potter turn into a wolf then? Had he been transfigured? Is it a curse that turns him into a regular wolf at certain times?  
  
Surely, the brat has not mastered the Animagus spell at sixteen years of age! He might have a good deal of raw magical power, but he’s never had the discipline or intellect to accomplish something as complex as the Animagus spell.  
  
I am pulled out of my reverie as the sun peeks over the horizon and immediately the bigger wolf starts to convulse. He collapses to the ground while his legs spasm and twitch. For some reason, I expect Potter to panic at the sight, but he sits calmly close by Lupin and merely watches, whining softly when the spasms are most violent.  
  
As I watch, thick fur retracts and the canine body morphs into human form. It’s fascinating seeing Lupin’s features reform. It’s actually the first time I’ve witnessed a transformation from werewolf to human. I’ve seen the reverse several times, though, and it is far from a pleasant sight. It seems that when the man within turns back into himself, it’s less of a struggle than when the wolf bursts forth.  
  
At last, Lupin is back to his usual shape and Potter approaches, still in wolf form. He prods Lupin’s arm with his snout and I watch, shocked, as Lupin reaches up and loops his arm around the neck of the smaller wolf and levers himself up into sitting position. He then proceeds to bury his fingers in the soft grey fur and pulls Potter close. The brat leans his head in and rubs his jaw along Lupin’s cheek. Can a wolf smile? Looks like it to me.  
  
I step a little closer and suddenly my brain catches up with my eyes. Lupin is naked ! I always thought that werewolves remained in the clothes they wore when the transformation happened. Apparently not, though. I realize I’m gaping and close my mouth instantly. It’s not becoming of a man of my class to _gape_.  
  
Glee is battling with shock for victory in my system. The fact that Lupin has a student out, after hours, in wolf form, when he himself is in werewolf form _and_ proceeds to hug said student while naked, just makes my day! I don’t think a teacher has ever broken that many rules in one go before. At the same time, though, I am shocked to find goody goody Lupin in his nude, hugging students. Or, well, one student, but still. It doesn’t seem like him at all.  
  
That train of thought is cut short abruptly as I observe the Potter brat giving Lupin a few gentle licks before changing back to human form smoothly - it has got to be the Animagus, then - and proceed to lean into Lupin’s arms. At this point, my eyes must be close to rolling out of my head from all the stunned gaping I’ve performed. The bloody brat is naked, too! What in Merlin’s name is going on here?!  
  
My whole body feels paralyzed and as I fight to make my muscles obey, I watch Lupin beaming at the brat like he’s the world’s eighth wonder. The insufferable boy smiles back, leans in, and plants a kiss on Lupin’s smiling lips. My jaw literally drops and hits the ground with a resounding thud. _Lupin_ and _Potter_ _?_  
  
Even if I wouldn’t have put any sort of inappropriate behavior past the pompous Chosen One, I would never in a million years have guessed that kissing was any part of their secretive meetings. It’s just... well, it’s wrong is what it is! It’s a teacher and a sixteen year old boy, for crying out loud!  
  
While I’ve been trying to pick my jaw up off the ground, the brat has snaked his arms around Lupin and he seems to be holding on for dear life. They are still kissing, enthusiastically I might add, and it looks like they are trying very hard to devour each other. Or, maybe like they believe they’d actually die if they weren’t connected by their lips at any and all times.  
  
Just to make sure that the brat isn’t being forced, I sneak closer. No matter that I personally think he could do with a thorough beating, I will not allow students to be molested on my watch!  
  
When I’m about twenty feet from their position, I stop and peek out from behind the bushes I’m hiding in.  
  
Well, fuck me, the brat is actually quite fit. Not exactly a bundle of muscles, but lean and with defined abs. Probably comes from quidditch and running away from insane, murderous Dark Lords.  
  
I let my eyes travel down over his flat stomach, where a tantalising path of dark hair drags my eyes to his... _oh my_ _!_ Guess the gossip girls got one right. That thing looks like it belongs on a fucking cart horse. I’m not jealous of a sixteen year old. I am _not!_ I can’t stop staring, though. And is that drool slipping down my chin?  
  
It seems that the kissing is no longer enough for the brat. He is clawing at Lupin’s back and slowly grinding his hips into the mutt’s, surprisingly muscular, stomach while whimpering softly.  
  
Lupin is more muscular than I’d have thought, though he still has that worn out look about him. He looks sort of fragile and I find it hard to believe he can be so dangerous. Until I look into his eyes, that is. His expression is positively feral. He looks at the brat like he’s a tasty treat, which might be very close to the truth, I gather, seeing as Lupin breaks the kiss and his mouth instead descends to the brat’s throat and attaches there, sucking and nibbling vehemently.  
  
As the brat throws his head back, exposing his throat further, and moans, still rutting against Lupin, I feel a disturbing tightening in my pants. Oh no. _No!_ I am _not_ getting turned on by this! I am _not!_  
  
Apparently, my cock disagrees. I feel like my own body is betraying me. I ought to get away from them and their unnatural urges. But, once again, I am stopped by my conscience. I cannot simply leave a student to suffer his fate. What if he will need my help shortly? Me staying has nothing whatsoever to do with my own morbid curiosity. Nuh uh!  
  
While I’ve been thinking, the brat has moved one of his hands up into Lupin’s hair while the other is shamelessly groping his teacher’s arse. Greedy little bugger! Lupin growls - maybe the brat clawed him too hard - and positively pounces on Potter, shoving him on his back in the grass. I kind of expect Potter to wrestle free or at least complain, since he does not really seem like the submissive type, but he does not fight back. Unless you count excessive snogging as fighting.  
  
The brat brings his legs up and wraps them around Lupin’s waist, pushing the mutt’s hips down while grinding his own up. I observe that Lupin is a man of average size. Compared to Potter’s pride, he seems almost miniscule though. Not that I’m really looking or anything. It’s just right there, almost in my face. How am I supposed to miss that?  
  
I begin to feel slightly uncomfortable as the rutting speeds up and the noises get more and more intense. They are moaning and gasping now, hands roaming everywhere.  
  
Spoken words make me snap out of my daze. It’s the brat talking... or, well, babbling more like.  
  
“Remus, please! I want... _oh fuck!_ _”_  
  
It doesn’t make much sense to me, but apparently Lupin understands perfectly. He sits up and pulls Potter with him, settling the brat in his lap, facing him. They kiss again, somehow managing to make it both urgent and tender. Lupin’s right hand travels down the brat’s back and continues further down down, into the crack between perfectly rounded arse cheeks. Potter breaks from the kiss and throws his head back. His back arches and he emits a soft hiss as one of Lupin’s fingers breach his entrance. Lupin works his finger for a few moments and all of a sudden Potter’s whole body jerks and he cries out. Lupin smirks.  
  
“Found it, huh?”  
  
Potter bends forward and buries his head in the crook of Lupin’s neck, uttering keening cries. Ah, the famous sweet spot.  
  
Suddenly, black spots appear in my vision and I realize I’ve been holding my breath for a while now. I try to pull in some much needed air without making enough noise to alert the lovers of my presence. Luckily, the brat is dangling wantonly in Lupin’s grasp and mewling pathetically, seeming to thoroughly enjoy having a werewolf’s fingers in his arse, so neither notice me inhaling a lungful of air.  
  
Now that I’ve started breathing again I don’t think I’ll ever get it down to regular intervals again. My lungs seem to want to work on overdrive at the moment. I’m almost panting and I cannot seem to tear my eyes away from the two guys writhing in front of me. Also, I do believe my trousers are trying to kill me, or at least part of me, by suffocation. A part I’m quite fond of , thank you very much.  
  
Needy, keening cries snap my attention back to Potter and Lupin and I see that the brat is virtually impaling himself on three of Lupin’s fingers. They are both covered in a thin sheen of sweat and while Lupin’s right hand had been occupied, Potter has freed his hand from the mutt’s hair and grasped both their cocks in a firm grip, fisting them enthusiastically. Lupin has closed his eyes and is panting, mouth slightly open. He looks so intense, so passionate, that I have difficulty tearing my eyes away from his face.  
  
Potter releases his grip and cups Lupin’s face with a tender expression.  
  
“Remus, I’m ready. I want you in me. _Now_ please!”  
  
The words make my treacherous cock twitch. I sneer by default and press the heel of my hand against my stubborn erection. Clearly, that one body part is not as intelligent and picky as the rest of me. I’m almost ashamed of it.  
  
Lupin opens his eyes and takes a good look at Potter’s face before pulling his fingers out and lifting the brat up. Potter performs a wandless lubrication spell - yeah, _that_ one he can manage wandless, the imp - that makes Lupin’s already slick fingers drip oil. He applies it generously to his cock, which is twitching slightly and pointing towards the brat like a bloody heat seeking missile.  
  
I feel like I should turn away, but for some reason I simply can’t make my body respond. My eyes are glued to Lupin’s cock as it disappears agonizingly slowly into the body of the Chosen One. When the brat is fully seated in the mutt’s lap once again , they suddenly crash their lips back together, perfectly in sync, as if it’s what they do every time. For all I know, it is.  
  
Potter starts rolling his hips and that makes Lupin cry out and dig his fingers into the brat’s hips. Said brat grins wickedly and when Lupin opens his eyes and sees Potter’s expression, he promptly leans forward and sinks his teeth into the brat’s shoulder. The only reaction he gets is a barked laugh and another hip roll. Lupin growls and takes hold of the brat’s thighs, pulling him up and throwing him on his back. Potter sounds like the air has been knocked out of him, but still wears that smug grin.  
  
Lupin, who manages to stay sheathed throughout his little stunt, is biting along Potter’s collarbone.  
  
“Impatient are we, Harry?”  
  
The brat snorts and clamps his legs hard around Lupin’s waist.  
  
“You always act like I’m a china doll that might break if you actually just go with it. Stop worrying!”  
  
How he manages to sound so relatively eloquent with a cock up his arse is beyond me.  
  
I can see Lupin is pulling out and pushing back in very slowly.  
  
“Harry, we talked about that,” Lupin gasps, “With me being a werewolf, I can’t simply let go of my inhibitions. If my wolf instinct kicks in, I might hurt you.”  
  
His breath hitches only slightly, but I can tell he really is worried about hurting the moronic whelp. As he should be.  
  
“Remus, I’m not going to bloody break. Now _please_ fuck me already!”  
  
With that, the brat determinedly grabs both the mutt’s arse cheeks and pulls Lupin in, while grinding up against him to take his cock all the way in.  
  
The brat’s carelessness astounds me and I am confident that Lupin will put him in his place now. At least the mutt knows that werewolf instincts can be a bit tricky when mixing with uninhibited passion. I mean, he just changed back half an hour ago!  
  
Once again, I’m disappointed though. Seems Lupin’s perseverance leaves something to be desired.  
  
He issues a feral growl, pulls his hips back and gets up on his knees, pulling Potter along by his hips so they stay connected.  
  
Judging by Lupin’s expression, the brat should be terrified by now, or at the very least apprehensive, but he looks like a kid who’s been told that Christmas is coming early. Lupin bends over the brat and slams into him with so much force that he slides in the grass. I almost cringe, waiting for Potter to whimper and withdraw from the ferocious man on top of him. He doesn’t, though. Instead, he encourages the mutt.  
  
“Ah! _Yes,_ like that! More, Remus _more!_ _”_  
  
Wow, the brat is demanding!  
  
Lupin is thrusting forcefully, grunting and gasping, and the brat is moaning and keening with his mouth ajar, wantonly splayed out in the grass.  
  
“This what you had in mind?” Lupin growls breathlessly.  
  
Potter seems to try answering, but between hanging on to Lupin and panting, he doesn’t manage to articulate anything coherent.  
  
Entranced as I am, I merely stand behind my bush, gawking and marveling at the sight before me. It seems that every time the sound of flesh slapping against flesh reaches me, my cock tries to jump clean out of my pants. I am annoyed by this, but too occupied to really care about how deeply disturbing it is.  
  
Potter is clinging to Lupin, clawing at his back, while mumbling incoherent words. Sounds like he’s simultaneously encouraging and egging Lupin on. The mutt is literally pounding him into the ground and his grunts are very growlish. I’m fairly sure I’d have scampered by now, if I was the one on the receiving end of that kind of werewolf passion, but Potter sounds like he’d rather die than be without it. I honestly don’t know if it’s bravery or stupidity, but considering all the other stuff the brat gets into, I’d say stupidity.  
  
Lupin lowers his head and starts licking and sucking at Potter’s perky nipples. This brings forth a tide of slightly high pitched moans, which is apparently what Lupin has been waiting for. He makes his thrusts a little slower, taking care to go all the way in every time. He grabs Potter’s impressive cock, smearing the precome around the tip and starts tugging urgently. The response is thrilling, to say the least. Potter cries out sharply several times, arching his back off the ground and rolls his hips fervently.  
  
“Oh fuck! _Fuck!_ Fuck, fuck, fuck... _Ah!_ _”_  
  
Clearly, Lupin is having great success hitting Potter’s sweet spot and he’s not resting on his laurels. He ceases the licking and instead bites down gently on Potter’s neck. That does it! The brat positively howls and his cock erupts, showering Lupin’s hand and his own stomach with come.  
  
His release must have triggered Lupin’s because he goes rigid and then his whole body jerks a few times. His head is thrown back and his breathing is harsh. It somehow seems ironic that the werewolf is the one who’s quiet during his climax, and the brat is the one howling.  
  
The whole scene is like the definition of erotic. I’ve been totally lost in it and it’s my own shudders that brings me back to reality. With a grimace, I realize I’ve actually come in my pants like a bloody schoolboy. While watching a student and a colleague have sex. This is so wrong, on so many levels, I don’t even know where to start!  
  
Lupin has collapsed on top of Potter and the brat has embraced the old mutt. They are a picture of pure bliss and I balk at the goofy happy faces. I turn to walk away when I hear the brat mumbling.  
  
“I love you, Remus.”  
  
His voice is low, but very certain. He sounds like he is expecting to be contradicted, though desperate to be believed.  
  
My head snaps back and I see Lupin’s smile grow another notch while he tightens his grip on the moronic brat.  
  
“I love you too, Harry.” The words are uttered softly, like Lupin is surprised to be feeling it, let alone actually saying it out loud.  
  
I flee.  
  
Sex I can handle. Well, almost, at any rate, but sappy feelings really make me uncomfortable. When I reach the doors into the castle, I turn around and look back. I can’t see them but I know they’re there and their sickly sweet expressions are etched on my retina permanently. Ugh, I will never get rid of that nauseating image, I’m sure.  
  
Finally, I know exactly what they are up to whenever they manage to sneak off, but I can’t barge into the Headmaster’s office and rat them out now. How would I explain why I hung around watching and how in the name of Merlin’s saggy knickers would I avoid the old coot discovering that I actually creamed my pants while gawking at a student and teacher having sex? No, it’s better to just keep this knowledge of Lupin and the Boy Who Lived To Fuck Werewolves to myself and stay away from them. Yes, that’s what I will do! Stay out of their way. Mostly. Okay, maybe I need to go check that they are both healthy and strong, and virile, after the next full moon. Just to be sure. No ulterior motives; no, none at all.  
  
I put my customary scowl in place and stalk purposefully towards the dungeons. I need a shower!  
  
Perhaps I’ll even wash my hair in honour of the occasion.


End file.
